by Javan Bonds
Sherman pulled a chair from beneath one of the computer stations and sat looking at Hollis, contemplating his next step.
This guy is just sitting there looking at me. I don’t know if he fell asleep with his eyes open or if he’s just trying to scare the hell out of me, but its working. I wonder how long it’ll take for my uncle to find out I’m here. How would he get me out of here?
After a long silence, Sherman seemed to come to a decision. “OK, I’ll come see you in the morning. Don’t go anywhere.” He snickered as he rose and walked to the other end of the trailer, shutting off all the lights before slamming the door behind him.
◆◆◆
“Who is it?” said a masculine voice poorly attempting to sound like a little old lady.
“You know who the hell it is. Just come on, man.” Jackson sounded annoyed, but he was glad his friend was in high enough spirits to joke around like always.
Redstone opened the door to his singlewide, exposing a ridiculously skinny and equally ridiculously pale redhead wearing only boxers, and a blond woman sat on the couch behind him reading a hardcover book.
“Really?” was the only question Jackson could ask as he looked down at his skinny friend.
Redstone followed his gaze to his boxers—white with red hearts—and responded with a humorous “you know you find it sexy, baby.”
Jackson snorted and walked in, visibly keeping his distance as he walked around the almost-naked Redstone, sat in the chair across from Whitney, and greeted her. He looked back at his friend. “Get some clothes on. Daddy wants to see you.”
◆◆◆
Hollis remained in complete darkness and complete silence for what seemed like days. He couldn’t be sure of the time and heard absolutely nothing through the walls. Just before he began to sing “American Pie” for at least the sixtieth time since he had been imprisoned, the door cracked open, and brilliant light shone through. He heard a couple of steps and shielded his eyes as the lights winked on to reveal a young Hispanic man wearing fatigues and carrying what looked like a TV dinner.
“Bol?”
◆◆◆
“I’ve seen this movie before. A bunch of guys with guns go to save somebody, and the bad guys shoot either the person they’re trying to save or one of the good guys. It’s usually the funny guy, and he says something funny before he dies. I’m the funny guy. I’m staying home.” Redstone was arguing as Jackson’s truck bounced down the driveway toward the big house.
Jackson knew it was cheap and below the belt, but it was the best argument he could think of. “What about your daddy, man?”
The redhead became silent, and his jaw clenched. “OK, I’m in.”
Jackson smiled. He knew Redstone would want payback.
“Revenge is a dish best served cold,” Redstone quoted.
Jackson responded, “Dude, that’s not even Star Wars.”
“Yeah, but it’s still a damn good quote.”
They both chuckled as the truck slowed, and Jackson killed the engine.
◆◆◆
Shit, Alvarez thought. I had no idea it was going to be him. Sherman had said only “the kid” and something about his uncle. I never realized it would be Hollis and Jackson’s dad. I didn’t even think about Hollis being our primary.
“You’re in the army?” Hollis asked.
He seemed just as shocked as Alvarez, who said with amusement, “Sure looks like it, don’t it, ese?” The sergeant walked steadily forward and offered the MRE through the bars. Sherman told me of the plan to take out the home base of the primary, and I was actually up for the fight—if it had been anyone else. But I don’t think I can go assassinate Jackson and his dad. I know that Redstone will be on their side, and he’ll be fighting against us. The SFC will have to count me out, because those people are OK.
“So are you going to execute me?”
“Why do you think we’re going to kill you? They just want to get you back to DC and put you on trial for being in on it.”
Hollis looked genuinely perplexed. “In on what?”
Alvarez wondered why the kid would even bother playing dumb. “Dude, we know what you did. You left a door unlocked so the terrorists could get in.” All of the DHS agents on this op had been briefed by Sherman on the background of Hollis Duncan. He was a racist anti-Semite who had fallen into a really wrong crowd, becoming involved with local white supremacist militias that were part of the plot to murder several senators.
Hollis gave an unbelieving chuckle. “Seriously?” he responded with a look of confusion and a sad shake of his head before telling Alvarez about everything he had been through since that fateful morning on Capitol Hill.
That sounds so unbelievable, it must be true. At least the kid believed it himself.
Hollis answered the sergeant’s wide-eyed disbelief. “Yeah, man, I know. Oh, and I’ll show you the video on my uncle’s computer.”
That’s what Sherman wants: the video. Everything this kid just told me is true, and Sherman doesn’t want anyone finding out. I know the government almost always lies, and most of the time it’s to protect people, but I’m not sure I can help cover this up. This is just way too wrong. If I break this kid out of jail, they’re going to shit-list me, sending just as many hit squads after me as any primary. But I’m just not sure I can let them kill this kid and his entire family. They’ve already killed those senators, and Dios knows how many other people have died throughout all of this. Sherman thinks Jackson’s dad still has the phone, so he won’t hurt the kid for at least a little bit longer. Maybe I can get over there and tell them what’s up, and they can get Hollis out before Sherman goes ape shit. I don’t know if I can do all this without getting caught, but I’ll deal with that when it comes. How am I going to get out of here undetected? Could I just take one of the Humvees without Sherman noticing?
Alvarez explained his poorly thought-out plan to Hollis, which he was basically formulating as he spoke.
“Fucking call in, all of you!” The angry call from Sherman to return went out across all bands and was surely heard by his squad members. He quickly responded over all bands to answer a question he had obviously received through a private channel. “Because I know where the fucking primary is, and we’re going to kill the sons of bitches housing him!”
◆◆◆
Jeff smiled, assuming Sherman was either stupid or too drunk with bloodlust to care. The military weren’t the only ones who could buy military radio hardware.
The Jedi Master almost chuckled maniacally. He had just finished saying it was not just that Sherman was an unaware military serviceman, but he knew what was going on and what Hollis had, and he had probably forced the boy to tell them about the digital duplicates in Jeff’s possession. The look in his eye said, “I told you we would not have to go to them, but that they would come to us.”
Jackson wanted to try to save his cousin, but he knew that Sherman would have already tortured and probably killed Hollis. And even if he was currently alive, he wouldn’t be if they showed up ready for a gunfight. The Pikes and their adopted family members stood in the office as they all listened to what had just come over the radio.
“Oh, great. I don’t even have to go anywhere to get riddled with machine gun bullets!” Redstone sounded resigned to die in this gunfight, but Jeff had the property heavily fortified. Jackson briefly wished Old Ben had been laying mines or traps earlier around the property.
The older men began discussing tactics, and Redstone asked no one in particular, “You said they have Hollis already. So why would Sherman say he’s here?”
The Old Jedi broke from his conversation and disappointedly shook his head. “Because even with the young man, he knows we have the evidence for which he came.”
The transmission began screaming across the speaker, and everyone in the house seemed entranced, moving closer to the radio, Jeff sitting closest in the rolling chair. “Tyler, you and Michaels go ahead and head to the County Road Seventy-Seven addre
ss I gave you. Alvarez and Freeman will attack from the east, and I…”
Before the end of Sherman’s statement, the elder Pike spun in his chair and smiled back at the others, ready to plan the defense of his home.
◆◆◆
“If they know you’re helping us…” Hollis let his sentence trail off.
Alvarez finished for him. “They’ll kill me too.” He turned to exit the MCU and tried to sound confident. “Don’t worry. We’ll be back to get you, homes.”
“Wait! If you’re really going over there, when you see Jackson, tell him, ‘Jacky, Holly said hi.’”
Was this dude kidding? Surely the army guys would notice if someone cranked up one of their trucks while they were in the building a few yards away; Alvarez would be shot before he made it out of the parking lot, and Hollis would die just the same! Even if he did survive the escape, Bol wasn’t a local and didn’t really know the roads. He had not asked for directions, and he had been to Jackson’s only once that Hollis knew of. These thoughts raced through the young man’s mind, but all he could do was shake his head as Alvarez bolted toward the door.
Sherman could hear engine noises, certain that Alvarez had overheard his commands and was warming up a Humvee, but he was too busy trying to psych up that little pussy Freeman for the coming fight and didn’t bother turning to the window to see the sergeant speeding away.
Bol was attempting to crouch while simultaneously peeking over the steering wheel, and he could not believe the radio was still silent. From his brief glances into the rearview mirror and the fact that no shots were fired, he was fairly certain his departure had gone unnoticed by town hall. He couldn’t decide if it was luck or fate that he had escaped free and clear as he glimpsed a Humvee cresting a rise from the direction of the bridge where Nichols was stationed.
He was far enough away that he guessed he was safe and could now try to develop a plan beyond this very second and decided it might be a good idea to call Redstone on the CB channel the redhead had told him was “my channel.” He turned the knob on the truck radio to the citizens band and began dialing to the instructed frequency. He sat erect, fumbling with the unfamiliar radio. “Redstone, you there, ese?”
“Who the hell is that?” Jeff was incredulous. Denise and Jackson had gone to the bunker to retrieve weapons while Redstone and the two senior men remained in the office; there was no fear of Mrs. Pike hearing any profanities.
Redstone answered as if completely unaware of what was happening. “Bol. He’s a friend of mine.”
“I’m really not concerned that you give our CB channel to your buddies, but this is really not a good time for a friendly chat.”
Jeff was almost dumbfounded as Redstone moved to take the receiver from him. “It might be something important. He’s one of the air force guys.”
Redstone seemed completely innocent. Jeff and the observing Jedi Master knew he meant National Guard and appeared to have simultaneous heart attacks. “What?”
Redstone realized he needed to explain. “No, he’s cool. I can guarantee that if it came down to me or Sherman, he would back me up. We can trust him.”
◆◆◆
How the fuck am I supposed to prove it? This sounds like Jackson’s dad. I don’t even know the guy well enough to convince him—wait! What was that the little guy told me to say, a password or something? The radio remained silent as the sergeant tried to remember.
Jackson and his mother had reentered the room with armfuls of weapons during the radio conversation between Bol and Jeff, so they did not initially understand what was going on. Redstone quickly brought them up to speed before another transmission. Apparently this national guardsman was defecting. He claimed Hollis was alive and was offering to help the Pikes save themselves, Hollis, and their entire town from the unstable Sherman. This was all good and well, but Jeff couldn’t accept that he was really talking to a turncoat and needed proof.
I thought it was just Redstone and Jackson’s dad, but I swear I heard Jackson say something at the end of the last transmission. The realization slammed into Alvarez as abruptly as if he had hit the brakes at his current high rate of speed. “The little guy told me to say, ‘Jacky, Holly said hi.’”
Bol did not come across as confident as he was hoping, but it was enough to make Jackson immediately glance up from securing his web gear while the room turned to him with curious incredulity. This sounded like a nickname directed at the younger Pike, but no one in the room—not even Redstone, notorious for giving almost everyone he ever met a nickname—had heard his best friend referred to as such.
Jackson almost blushed at the nickname. “He’s telling the truth.” Though embarrassed, Jackson knew that was the only way Alvarez could have convinced the people on his end. He knew that his cousin would have had no reason to inform the federal troops of this secret, even under duress. Alvarez could not have simply guessed this, and Jackson just knew he had to be legitimate.
CHAPTER 30
July 26
JACKSON AND REDSTONE lay on either side of the driveway, using each shallow ditch as cover and the shoulder as a prop for their sniper rifles. They watched one Humvee approach the gate, and a single man in desert camo who resembled Sergeant Bolivar Alvarez exited the vehicle and began the process of opening and closing the gate as he had seen Redstone do. They saw no other occupants in the vehicle. Jackson remained suspicious of a double cross, but Redstone was certain the sergeant was honestly alone; the two had become fast buddies, and he was willing to trust the turncoat. The entire situation was so unbelievable that the corporal’s defection had to be fate.
The Humvee moved up the driveway, and though he couldn’t know the positions of his observers, Alvarez figured he had at least a couple of high-powered rifles pointed in his direction and frantically waved out the window to prove that he was unarmed.
“Well, hell. That’s a good sign; maybe he wasn’t lying,” Jackson half whispered to his friend on the other side of the driveway.
Redstone replied with a snicker, “Now you owe me five dollars!”
Old Ben had described the house (and the bunker) as a castle and said that “without mechanized or air support, most any attack could be easily overcome.” With ditches surrounding the fence surrounding thick woods around basically the entire property, the only obvious assault points would be at the driveways, though they could easily be bottlenecked. The motion sensors placed strategically throughout the property would help to narrow any foot assault to certain quadrants. Each member of the group carried a walkie-talkie so all could remain in constant contact and be aware of any perimeter breach. The Jedi Master had strategized as if he were a veteran tactician—he must have led plenty of battles, because his defense plan was pretty foolproof. He had instructed the two younger men to watch the professed turncoat enter the property and radio after they had reached a deduction on his trustworthiness.
Jeff thought his son sounded a bit sulky. “Yeah, just him, and he seems legit.”
In the background behind Jackson came, “I told you, mother—” And Jackson thankfully released the transmit button.
◆◆◆
“I’m going to shoot that little fucking wetback,” Sherman almost exclaimed after Nichols reported he thought he had seen a Humvee speeding away just as he was approaching. With Tyler and Michaels reporting that they were on their way from the other side of town and Freeman walking into the room, Alvarez was obviously the deserter. Why the fuck would he go on a joy ride now?
Freeman had been given the task of checking on the prisoner and reported, “He seems OK. He wouldn’t tell me why, but he’s pretty damn happy about something.”
Sherman cocked an eyebrow and thought he might know the reason. His growing anger seemed a physical presence, and, not coming to the same realization as their commander, the two subordinate soldiers cowered.
◆◆◆
A screaming tirade came from the military radio. “What the fuck are you doing, you stupid spic? If yo
u are not back here in thirty seconds with a damn good explanation, I will murder your entire beaner family!”
Redstone walked around the front of the Humvee to greet his new compatriot, who had not yet exited the vehicle. “Well, he sounds pissed.”
Alvarez turned to lean back onto the vehicle as he replied, “Yeah, the fucking racist gringo guinea bastard.” Alvarez raised the handset to his mouth to respond with an equally offensive racial comeback but decided against saying anything over the radio at the last moment.
Redstone chuckled at Bol’s contradictory racial slurs and realized maybe his first impression of Sherman had been right. Maybe he really was in the mafia. “He sounds more and more like The Godfather every day,” Redstone stated to Bol.
Bol responded, “Exactamente, amigo!”
◆◆◆
Denise recoiled at the vulgarity coming from the radio, but Jeff lightened it. “I guess Redstone’s amigo is legit.”
Old Ben nodded in agreement and understood that this young man would be an indispensable asset in the coming battle and beyond. From more traditional generations, the elder men planned for Denise to remain safely in the bunker as Jackson, Redstone, and now the turncoat Alvarez positioned themselves to defend the front of the property while Jeff and Old Ben kept watch in the other directions from the castle, feeling they needed to be the last line of defense for the womenfolk. Regardless of their chauvinistic superiority complex, Denise was thankful and honestly didn’t mind staying out of a gunfight.
“This is a record.” Redstone seemed somber as he lined Bol’s Humvee across the driveway, and Jackson turned to look at him from the passenger seat as he continued. “This will be my second gunfight in the past few weeks.”
Jackson knew Redstone was being sarcastic through his serious tone; this was the second gunfight either of them had ever been a part of.
